The story you are about to read comes from the journal of one Navah Malach, Mossad officer of Israel, you would better know her as her code name. This author would tell you, but it would only ruin the surprise. Her papers were translated from her native language by this author and presented to you for your pleasure.

Inside you will find familiarity to the book series Percy Jackson and the Olympians this author does not own the characters, only what she plans for the plot and any other OCs.

Thank you, and enjoy the story.

1994, age 13

"Navah!" I heard my name being called over the noise of the simulator I was using. I threw my last three knives into three different 'enemy' chests and brought my gun out to kill the rest with deadly accuracy. Never leave a job unfinished, that was my philosophy.

I undid the strap on the holographic simulator helmet and rejoined the real world. Next to me was my step-brother, Loir, and my supervisor. "Yes? What is it Loir?" I asked in Hebrew.

"Father is requesting your presence." He responded back, also speaking in Hebrew. I would be surprised if he spoke in anything less; Hebrew was Israel's language after all. That didn't stop me from learning about ten others from across the globe, of course.

I looked to my supervisor, reluctantly she allowed me to leave. I whacked Loir on the chest and shot him a toothy grin. "Race you." He produced a mischievous grin that mirrored my own and simultaneously, we sprinted forward.

Loir was my older step-brother by my father. He's 30 cm (11 inches) taller than me with dark brown hair, dark skin, and dark chocolate eyes. He was my exact opposite. While Loir inherited my father's genes, I got my mothers.

My mother in question was an American solider father's men captured. Under my father's orders, any female prisoners of war are not to be killed right away-like the males are-after interrogation. They are to be graded and brought to work in the kitchens, cleaning crew, warm the soldier's beds, etc. Any placement sickened me, but I suppose it was better than just killing them.

Back to my mother, she was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She had amazing blond hair and piercing grey eyes, both of which I inherited. My mother was very tall, almost the same height as Loir-and he's almost two meters (six feet), with a slender frame; not someone you would expect to be in the military.

But yet she was, and my father's men, I don't know which squad or regiment, captured her. My father happened to be waiting for a trail for a mole we discovered and decided to stay. He says when he first laid eyes on her in her army camouflage, blood splattered on her face and clothes, hair a mess, and bound to a chair, he immediately fell in love. Well what he calls 'love', which really meant he thought she was hot and wanted to bed her.

He over ruled the decision to throw her in the kitchen, putting her in a position where she worked very closely with him. They had a one night stand and, bingo, here I am. She stayed only for my benifit, saying she had always wanted a daughter, but stayed clear of my father if she could help it. Inevitably, when I was four, she had my little brother.

I skited to a stop at the entrance of my father's study and waited for Loir. He turned the corner a second later, looking behind him. I didn't move fast enough and he plowed right into me.

We fell to the floor and burst out laughing. Suddenly the door opened; I opened my eyes to see my father's boots. I scrambled to my feet and bowed slightly. "Father."

The brown/grey haired man in front of me cracked an amused smile, but as we walked into his suite he returned to an unreadable expression. My father loved us, and showed us every chance he could, but he still had to be the man with the iron fist at work. He ushered us into the room. "I won." I whispered to Loir as we walked in. He said nothing but glared at me.

We followed father through a side door in the study to a private dinning room. Noam was already there. Noam was a blond, brown eyed baby; a complete mix of my father and mother. He was the sweetest thing at 9; he was the only thing I allowed myself to care for. He was all I had left of my mother.

"Noam," I greeted in heavily accented English. He was picking up a good amount of Hebrew so far, but he's still a little iffy if we talked to fast; that is what we get for letting mother teach him English instead of Hebrew. I always talked to him in English since it was my newest language and I didn't have all the phrases-or 'slang'-exactly memorized yet, so in a way, it was a win/win for both of us.

"Hello Navah," He smiled warmly at me. "How was school today?"

I groaned a bit, it's not that I hated classes, but father insisted I had tutors on every subject. "It was good Noam," I smiled lightly at how he always made a point to ask us how our days went. He was honestly too sweet for his own good. Being nice in our world was dangerous. "How was your day?"

"Great! We started studying how to disarm bombs today! Next week is making them." I nodded in approval. He smiled at me and turned to the two males behind me while I sat down across from him. "What about you Loir? How is the field?" He asked with enthusiasm. Noam couldn't wait until he started his actual Mossad training. Don't ask me why, but he wants to be a suicide bomber. We all have to have a niche, and that's what he chose as his, I guess. Loir was an assassin, and I was planning on following behind him once I graduated high school, so I believe ours isn't much better.

"Just the normal day out there Noam, I won't bore you since, you are not an assassin." He said coldly. Unlike father and I, Loir always talked in Hebrew-even around Noam-but spoke slower as to not confuse him, at least. He nodded, I could tell he wanted to hear about what it was like in out in the field just in general, but accepted his answer.

"Father? How was your day?"

Aba sat down across from my step brother, "My day was nothing out of the ordinary." He said plainly. What Noam didn't seem to grasp, was that he couldn't really tell us what he did, it was all confidental. "Now, shall we eat?" He clapped his hands and several servers brought out dishes.

1998, age 17

I smiled as my weapons specialist tutor handed me my high school certificate. My father congratulated me with a warm hug, Loir told me 'Not bad, squirt', Noam hugged me and I ruffled his mop of dirty blond hair.

"You know what this means Navah." Father told me, formal for the surrounding agents. I sighed and nodded. "Welcome to the Mossad."

"What are you going to specialize in Nav?" Noam asked around his food later that night. I switched my decision so many times, one could never be sure, but I had finally choosen.

"Assassinations." I answered him, having gone with my original plan. His eyes widened and he started talking excitedly about it. The only one that didn't approve of this was my mother. She didn't approve of her children-even Loir-putting themselves in such danger that is the Mossad, but it was like an 'oh well' kind of thing; she just had to deal with it. Unfortunately, she had enough and five years ago, she left the base because she hated what our father was making us do. I haven't seen her since.

It was saddening that Noam will never know his mother, since he was no more than five when she left, and even more when he asks me about her. I decided to create an allusion for him, that his mom didn't leave him and is no where to be found, but that she was on a top secret mission for Mossad. He only knew she sent him gifts for Hanukkah, which was really just me signing in her handwriting.

2001, age 21

I stared at the wall as my father continued filling out papers. I could feel my eye twitch a few times and I blinked to solidify my emotions. "Thank you for informing me father." I said, promptly turning on my heel and leaving his study. As I walked down the corridor to my sector, I thought about what he told me.

Noam's mission against the United States was a success.

Why would father send him out? His own son...he had to have known. Suicide bombers only get one mission.

As I walked into the room I shared with a fellow assassin, I sat on my bed and found a vanilla folder sitting there; waiting for me. My next mission.

I opened it and started reading the hurried Hebrew writing. I was being sent on a terrorist mission in Libya, well to stop one anyway. The Libyans were a strong ally of ours. I started packing immediately, only the necessities, and strapping on all my weapons. A hand-gun on my hip, double concealed knives just above my ankle and upper forearm, as well as one on the opposite hip to my gun. Lastly a mini-gun on the corresponding ankle; back ups in my bag. Another philosophy of mine, be prepared for anything. When I was ready I ran out to an already waiting helicopter.

As I walked into the hotel I was assigned to, I guess I was distracted by something because next thing I knew I was on my butt. I was on my feet, gun pointed at the culprit, a second later. I took in their appearance. It was a short, brown haired woman, wearing a grey pin-stripe suit.

I lowered my weapon, deciding she wasn't a threat, helped her up and re-sheathed my gun. "I am sorry ma'am." I spoke in English since she was clearly American so covered with a thick accent it was almost my own language. English was not my best language...

She eyed me a bit, narrowing her eyes slightly and tilting her head like she was examining me. I stuck my chin out just a bit more and returned the gesture. After a few minutes she became very excited. "Annabeth! Long time no see!" She enveloped me in a hug. I stood there motionless and awkward. "Oh, you don't remember. Well I'm not surprised! You hit your head pretty hard. It's me, Joy. Joy Smith? We met on a mission in Japan a few years ago, remember? We worked together to take out our mutual target."

I thought for a second. Suddenly memories flooded into my head. "Joy! It is good to see you again." I smiled at her. She returned it.

"Come on, join me for a drink! We need to catch up." She grabbed my hand and led me to the hotel's bar.

Joy swallowed a gulp of her second Margarita. "I was wondering Annabeth, would you consider a job in the CSI?" I raised my eyebrow at her.

"Why?" Came my simple answer.

"Well there is a surprising lack of Israeli representatives in our agency. The job in question is very dangerous; only someone with experience can take it and, let's face it, you're amazing with that gun of yours."

My hand shot protectively to my gun holster; she laughed then suddenly got serious. "We just had an agent retire and we need a replacement. Its a very important wing of the CSI that investigates most crime scenes; from murders to kidnappings, ecetera. That position needs to be filled and I think you would be perfect."

The, not so subtle, ringing of my disposable phone made me look down. The caller I.D showed my father's number. "I must answer this," I told her and walked a good four meters (12 feet) away before answering. "Father."

"Navah, abort the mission." No hello, no how are you doing, right down to business like always.

"Why, was it leaked?" I spoke quickly in Russian. There were chances people here knew Hebrew, not being so far from the language's place of origin. I do not take chances.

"No," He replied. "Loir has gotten in trouble, go fix it."

"Where?"

"Washington D.C. Get there as fast as you can." With that he hung up.

I stared at my phone; this CSI job was looking much more interesting now.

I walked back over to where Joy was seated at the bar, chatting with the bar tender. "Is there something wrong? I heard you muttering angerly into the phone in..what was that language?"

"Russian." I said quickly, needing to get to the point. "I want to take you up on your offer."

"Oh splendid!" She dropped a piece of paper on the bar and started walking away. I frowned a bit but had no choice but to follow her. "Now, this is my last day in Libya; I was here for a case that strayed into Libyan laws, not fun by the way. Anyway, my flight leaves in...oh about three hours. How soon can you depart?"

"As soon as you need." I said, but thought 'After I kill this terrorist' I shrugged to myself 'Won't take long.'

Joy stopped suddenly, a shocked and confused expression met my stone one. "Really?" I nodded. Trying to recover quickly, she shook her finger at me as she started walking again. "Very good! Now, my plane is a private government helicopter, so I'll have to send another to pick you up after I return to the US." Joy smiled at me over her shoulder. Americans sure do smile a lot. "You don't mind do you? It will only be a few days."

I nodded my approval of the plan and waited as she opened the door to her hotel room. "Stay here now Annabeth, I must organize things to a bit more manageable state!"

While she was gone, I took my temporary phone out and opened father's I.D. and dialed it. After the fourth ring father's thick American accent filled my ears. "Malach."

"Father," I spoke, in French this time as it was better than my Russian, and father seemed to prefer it to most the languages I knew. "A CSI agent offered me work in D.C, we are leaving in a few days."

"Good. Keep me posted." I stayed quiet, thinking he would say more, when a buzzing started to emit from the phone. I pulled it back and stared at it in shock. He hung up on me! Suddenly a message popped up on my screen, it was a number. Loir's. He wanted me to call him. I sighed in agitation.

"So how many languages do you know Annabeth?" Joy asked from the other room.

"Ten." I answered absentmindedly, slightly surprised that hadn't come up before.

I heard a hum of approval. "Could you come and help me, Annabeth?"

"Yes." I answered and walked over to her to help.

In the U.S.

Nobody's POV

Director Smith walked into Chiron's department lobby. There were about ten desks, but this early in the morning she wasn't surprised to see only three were filled. She walked over to the desk the older man was currently sitting at.

"Can I help you, director?" He asked politely, looking up from his paper work.

"I got you a new agent." She said simply.

At this, all three pairs of ears perked up. "Well? May I see their folder?" Chiron asked.

"Of course," Joy handed him a rather bloated vanilla folder. He raised an eyebrow, not knowing if he should be impressed or worried.

Chiron opened it and began reading. He got as far as the first line when his eyebrows became part of his receding hair line. "Joy, are you sure about this?"

"What is it boss?" The two lower agents questioned curiously.

The director ignored them. "Positive, Chiron."

The old man sighed, shaking his head as he continued reading through the large folder. "If you insist." 'The Director always has a reason.' He thought to himself.

As said director walked back to the elevator to her own floor, both agents jumped from their seats and stood in front of their supervisor's desk. "Who is he?"

"She, Jackson," Chiron corrected the boy. "Is former Israeli Mossad agent, Annabeth Chase."

Suddenly the elevator doors opened again. The three agents looked to see who it was, half expecting to see their new co-worker, but their eyes were met with a crazed looking brown haired man with a gun pointed at their heads.

A few hours before. Annabeth's POV

I watched as a black helicopter landed on the roof of the hotel. When it was in place, I climbed in and we began our journey across the Atlantic ocean. I barely heard it, but I pulled my ringing phone out of my pocket. "Hello?" I yelled over the noise of the 'copter.

Loir's voice answered, his normally calm voice now loud so I could hear him. "Where are you? Father said you would be coming."

I nodded to myself, remembering he couldn't see me, I responded. "I am on my way, we are-" I paused and asked the pilot how far we were from land. "-four hours from landing. Think you can hold out until then?"

Loir chuckled for a moment, telling me he would see me in D.C. and hung up. Replacing the phone in my pocket, I sat back and watched out of the window of the helicopter as a sliver of land was just becoming visible.

We landed half an hour ahead of schedule on top of the CSI building I would be stationed at. I jumped out of the machine and entered the building, climbing down the stairs until I was met with an elevator opening next to me. "Annabeth! You're here, well come on then, I'll show you were your desk is and you can get acquainted with your coworkers." Joy ushered me in.

I walked in next to her and stood motionless as the metal container lead us down to level four, so said the button blinking on the side panel. When we got there, the doors slid open. The first thing I saw were four men. Two around my age and one much older where facing me, the last man had his back to me. Oh and there's the fact he had a gun pointed at their heads.

I looked down and saw three similar guns at the gun man's feet, they must be the boy's guns. Without hesitation I pulled my own weapon and pointed it at the man. The ding of the elevator must have alerted him of our presence because he bent down and grabbed another gun before turning it and pointing it at us.

I saw his face and I nearly dropped my gun in surprise, it was Loir! What was he doing? This is the trouble father was talking about? Trouble my ass, this was more serious than the word 'trouble' can handle.

I recovered within a second and held my gun tighter while a crazed smile grew on Loir's face. "Loir, put your gun down." I ordered calmly in Hebrew.

"Oh no problem." He winked at me and put the gun he had aimed at me to his side, keeping the other trained on the three men.

My eyes flared. I hated it when he found loops in orders I give him. He does it all the time. I kept a straight face and ordered him to drop both of them, daring him to try that again.

"No can do, sister." He spoke, this time purposely in English. I saw the four others exchange surprised looks but ignored them; keeping my eyes dead locked on my brother. "They must die! We must finish what Noam started!" Loir turned to the three agents and raised both guns. The look in his eye told me he was going to shoot this time.

I couldn't let him kill these agents, but he was my brother! I had this argument in my head that lasted only a few seconds, from when he first said 'no' to when he aimed his gun at two of their heads.

I had to do the right thing.

I pulled my trigger and watched as my brother's lifeless body fell to the ground.